


Sympathy for a Ghost

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-25
Updated: 2012-11-25
Packaged: 2017-11-19 11:43:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/572898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes you think about the night you died. But it doesn’t matter. You’re dead and you are very much okay with it.</p><p>The ghost searches, the Spider thinks, the Coder writes, and the Highblood builds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sympathy for a Ghost

Sometimes you think about the night you died. But it doesn't matter. You’re dead and you are very much okay with it. Your empty apathy doesn't bother you. But when you chat with him, sometimes, just for a moment, the old you, the alive you, stirs just a little. And only for a short time. Then you’re dead again. Dead, ghostly and okay with it. Because he doesn't know. He doesn't understand that you are doing this for his own good. The game will save him, even if it kills him. Then you’ll both be dead. The idea humors you and you almost smile, even though ghosts don’t smile. 

Ghosts don’t feel anything.

\---

Sometimes you reflect on the night you killed her. She deserved it, she insulted you. She deserved it. But sometimes you aren’t so sure. Sometimes you wonder if you did the right thing. But you just shrug it off and ask your kismesis to FLARP with you. It still bothers you though, as you stand on the deck of your ship, jeering at your opponents. That night after you get home, you message her. And she tells you about the game. That night you plot with her and the musclebeast lover. The moans of captured trolls in the basement are your music that night.

That reminds you; it’s feeding time.

\---

You don’t know what’s wrong with your best friend. She is not herself anymore. She is a shell. This worries you, but the voices in your head are louder than ever. Ever since the night you utterly blacked out. That was the night that your best friend changed. You have suspicions about it, but you never learned what happened that night. That was also when she began to tell you about the game. The game that came from her mysterious ruins. That you are writing. That the voices tell you will destroy your world. But you don’t really care about that anymore. You think maybe it’s high time the whole world died. 

You get back to your coding.

\---

You don’t enjoy the lowblood telling you what to do, but at the same time you relish it. It is utterly wrong, and unnatural and that is why you love it. Your heart is as red as the rising sun for her. Maybe your moirail was right, maybe you are too uptight. You continue to fiddle and perfect the lowbloods robot. Tonight is the night you add the heart. A perfect blue pulsing heart, that will fill the robot with high blue blood. You will be able to truly love her soon.

You build the robot.

\---

You are the ghost girl. You have already played your part in this story, yet you remain. You search for the code in the ruins, as the spider feels guilty, your old friends codes his own death, and the highblood builds your robot. 

You knock over the frogs head and soon the game will begin.


End file.
